Tango De Tony
by Xian Chan
Summary: One-Shot. Maxxie likes dancing for more reasons than one. Slash. TonyMaxxie.


**Summary:** Maxxie likes dancing for more reasons than one.

**A/N:** The result of staying up late after two J's and trying to practice the tango. I find that I've never really written anything that's less than an R-rating. Shameful. It's unbeta'd, so if anyone finds any mistakes, please let me know. Thanks.

**Warnings:** Written before Season 2. That's about it.

- - - - - - - - - -

**Tango De Tony**

- - - - - - - - - -

It's like sex.

It's always like sex. Exhausting, raw, rough sex.

Dancing was like sex.

Maxxie could do it for hours. He could bend and lend himself to the way of the rhythm. To any music. He would sway his hips slowly, letting his shirt ride up showing off a small sliver of paled skin. Sooner or later, someone who thought they were worth enough to dance with Maxxie would end up wrapping their arms around him. They would slide their hands up his chest, across his back, down his trousers maybe. Anywhere. And Maxxie would let them.

He would grind up against them. Feel their body against his. Feel hands wandering wherever they may. Feel lips roughly place upon his neck. Bruising. It would go that way for awhile. A long while. Because that's how Maxxie liked to dance. It was _his_ dance. And he loved it.

And Tony would see. And he would pretend like he didn't care. Because that's how _Tony_ liked to dance. That's how they liked to dance around each other. Never really getting too close. Never moving too far. Always watching the other, waiting for the right opportunity to really start. Maxxie would look at him all the time, making sure Tony saw exactly what was being done to him. To them both.

_You want it, Tony. I know you do. You want _me._ Come get me._

But Tony wouldn't. He would just watch. Watch as he let Maxxie give his body over to the music. To the man who was pulling Maxxie close. And Tony would do nothing.

In front of everyone, Tony could care less about who Maxxie was with, or who Maxxie fucked, or who Maxxie danced with. It was only Maxxie, after all. Tony knew that the other boy could have anyone that he wanted. Truly wanted. And Maxxie usually _did_ have them. Right under his pretty little thumb. Pulling their strings. Tony saw it in the blonde's shocking blue eyes. The way he was able to drag anyone he wanted under the spell. Making them _dance_.

Alone, with just the two of them, it's like dancing.

It's always like dancing, he would say. Exhausting, raw, rough dancing.

Sex with Tony was like dancing the tango. Nothing like ballet, where Maxxie would lightly leap and be caught by Tony. Where he would pirouette while Tony held his hands above his head and gently place his hand on Maxxie's hip to stop him. No. It was nothing like that.

It was passionate.

Tony would grab Maxxie by the waist. Look into his eyes intently and start by swaying to the rhythm heard by only them. He would bring Maxxie close. Closer than any man who didn't matter would or could. Tony could make it seem as if they were one. Only Tony could do that. Only Tony mattered. His heated breath drifting across Maxxie's cheek, sending shivers down the boy's spine.

The words, _'Fuck me'_, dance on Maxxie's lips until Tony kisses him. Pulling the words out of his mouth so that they're dancing in the air. And Tony does. He dips Maxxie low. Dips him into the bed and leans over the blonde, taking in the naked form in as much as possible before it's all over. Remembering step for step how it will go.

As usual, Maxxie arches up into him rubbing skin against skin, begging for Tony to touch him. Anywhere. Everywhere. Just touch him. Caress those hips that move so enticingly. And Tony kisses him to shut him up. He kisses along Maxxie's jaw while moving his hand down the boy's chest, over his ribs, down his slim waist, past his flat stomach toward the boy's erection. He rubs his palm against Maxxie's hard cock, making the boy shudder under him.

"I love touching you, Max," Tony would whisper into Maxxie's ear.

"Tony," he would moan slowly, arching further. He would pull Maxxie up by his waist, capturing his lips once again.

Tony liked to tango; and Maxxie knew why. Because only fucking Maxxie ever felt like a dance. Like the tango. Passionate, and poetic, and exciting all at once. And Maxxie liked it that way.

After releasing Maxxie's lips, Tony would spin Maxxie around and embrace the boy from behind. And he would bend Maxxie over; take him on all fours. That was how he would enter Maxxie first. Thrusting rhythmically into the shorter boy. Bending over with him so that their bodies pressed together, back against chest.

Maxxie would moan louder. He would have to bite his hand to stop from yelling out in pure ecstasy.

Tony would turn him again so that they were facing each other once more. The dark haired boy would push into Maxxie without restraint. "Tony," Maxxie would sometimes whimper. "Harder. _Please._" And Tony would oblige. It brought tears to Maxxie's eyes. It was all so painful, and it felt so good. Too good. Too much for Maxxie to handle. Too cathartic.

Tony would kiss away Maxxie's tears with every thrust into the boy. Loving him more and more, no matter how much he denied it. This is what he loved. Michelle never gave Tony this. Pure bliss.

His rhythm began to pick up, going faster, reaching the climax of their dance. He would grab Maxxie's hand, letting their fingers twine together, kiss him one last time before it was done. "I love you Maxxie," he would say without ever knowing. To ears that wouldn't hear. Maxxie was too focused on the burning heat in the pit of his abdomen.

"_Tony,_" Maxxie would allow himself the privilege of at least one, exquisite, orgasmic scream. His muscles would tighten around the still thrusting Tony, driving the taller boy over the edge. Dragging him kicking and screaming into his own orgasm; filling Maxxie with liquid fire. He would always love that feeling. To know how entirely completed Maxxie was with Tony inside him on more ways than one.

Breathing heavily, Tony would collapse on top of Maxxie who loved Tony's comfortable crushing weight.

Maxxie was usually the one to pull the covers over them. Tony would be snuggled up in the crook of Maxxie's neck, halfway to sleep by that time. The blonde found that it was the best time to ask Tony for the truth. He wasn't too sure Michelle took advantage of those opportunities often enough.

"It's only like this with me, isn't it Tony," Maxxie whispered.

"Mhmm. Now shut up, I'm trying to sleep."

Smiles abound, Maxxie would let him. Soon enough, he would be drifting off himself knowing that his dreams wouldn't even live up to Tony Stonem's utterly perfect performance.

Maybe one day they could actually try dancing the real tango. Maxxie imagined they would be very good.

- - - - - - - - - -


End file.
